


Love Languages

by jessik



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessik/pseuds/jessik
Summary: Sonny has a problem...he is frustrated with Rafael's terms of endearments.....





	Love Languages

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that would not go away..... so I finally wrote it....

It was ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. Ridiculous and silly. And if he thought about it long enough, it actually was ungrateful and maybe even rude.  
  
It was all of those things, but the truth remained, Sonny had come to hate Spanish. Ok, so maybe hate was a strong word. Dislike it… or be irritated by it. No… actually, hate was the right word.  
  
It was a gradual thing. In fact, at first, he had loved it. Found it so damn sexy. The way the language rolled off Rafael’s tongue. The fact that Sonny knew that each word was a term of endearment. Spanish, it seemed, was Rafael’s love language. Which he, probably, encouraged in the beginning. Because it was hot.  
  
Well, it had been hot. Now it was irritating and frustrating. Perhaps if Rafael had made declarations of love in English as well, maybe these ridiculous feelings would not have occurred. But every time Sonny said, “I love you”, Rafael would reply, “Yo tambien te amo” or some other Spanish phrase. Sometimes, Sonny would find himself later in the day speaking into his cellphone, hoping Google Translate could understand his Staten Island accented Spanish when Rafael sprung some unfamiliar word on him.  
  
As it was, he knew the Spanish words for my heart, my soul, my life, the love of my life, handsome, and I love you, because he heard them often. And he could admit that these words sounded better in Spanish than English. But he thought he’d like to hear a sweetheart or baby in good old English every once in a while.  
  
He didn’t know how to fix this…. this non-problem, this non-issue. What exactly could he say? “Hey, Rafi...you know that thing I told you I liked? That thing that is second nature to you? Could you stop it, please? Or do it less often? Could you just say you love me in English, please? Not that I don’t know you do when you say it Spanish, but I think I want to hear those three words in my native tongue…. At least every once in a while? Please?”. How ridiculous.  
  
He actually jotted down some notes for a possible conversation… on more than one occasion. Each time, he would ball the paper up and throw it away. Because no matter how irritated he was, he would remember how totally, and completely, ridiculous this was.  
  
About three weeks after his last note-writing session, Sonny returned home after a two-week long undercover assignment. He had rushed home to see Rafael. He had missed Rafael so much that he was looking forward to talking with him, whatever language he used.  
  
Rafael sat on the couch, reviewing some files which were spread across the living room table. When he realized that Sonny was home, he exclaimed “Amore mio!”. Sonny looked at Rafael quizzically. “Hey Rafi, I’ve missed you”, he replied. Rafael responded, “I’ve missed you too, bello. I’m so glad you are home safely. Liv kept me updated on your progress so I was expecting you, amore della mia vita.”  
  
Sonny wasn’t quite sure what to say. Amore mio? Bello? Amore della mia vita? What had happened here? For the rest of the night, he listened as Rafael peppered his speech with more and more Italian terms of endearment. Sonny was no longer irritated, now he was confused.  
  
This continued for another day. No more Spanish, Italian. Of course, Sonny was bewildered when he had to consult Google Translate again. What was going on here?  
  
As he prepared to get into bed on his second night home, Sonny finally had enough of his confusion. Although Rafael’s eyes were closed, Sonny knew that he was not yet asleep. “Rafael,” he asked, “um, why do you keep speaking to me in Italian?” Rafael opened one eye, and replied, “Perché ti amo. And because I thought you wanted me to tell you that in your native tongue every once in a while.” Sonny shook his head, still confused.  
  
Rafael sat up, open the drawer on the nightstand nearest to him, pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and handed it to Sonny. “Maybe next time you’ll actually put your trash in the trashcan instead of by the trashcan,” Rafael said, with a smirk. Sonny examined the paper in front of him. His discarded notes. As ridiculous as the day he had written them.  
  
“I meant English, you know,” Sonny said, after crumpling the paper, and this time making the three-point shot into the trashcan. “I know, mi amor,” Rafael said, as he pulled Sonny to him and lay down to rest. “I know.”


End file.
